


Codename: Breakfast

by Rothecooldad



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, FAHC, GTA AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, also poor gavin bc i keep hurting him in fics sorry babe, and i took that challenge by the horns yall, and its probably safe to be teen rating but i mean better safe than sorry, are these tags telling enough???? who knows, based on a prompt i got on my blog, canon typical and not mcd, character death but like, had to work with the things to do halo 5 minotaur video, his mental stability isnt the best, idk if its necessarily graphic violence but just in case, im so tired, poor matt, this took me so long im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 00:30:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11279994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rothecooldad/pseuds/Rothecooldad
Summary: “You mean,” Matt said tentatively, afraid he'd gotten it wrong. “Codename: breakfast?”The relief that'd spread across Gavin's face was palpable. His shoulders slumped as he let go of the breath he'd been holding.“Yeah, Matt.” Gavin smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. “Codename: breakfast.”





	Codename: Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters are based upon the internet personalities portrayed by members of Achievement Hunter and in no way are meant to reflect the lives of the actual person or persons themselves.

“If you would only just fucking talk,” the man tried to reason with them, wrapping his bloodied knuckles with a long bandage. “You and your little buddy here could just walk away. No harm, no foul.” He leaned in close to Matt, dangerous smile playing across his face. “What d’ya say, huh? Gonna cooperate?”

 

The glint in his eyes belied his words. Matt wasn’t fucking dumb. Whatever the guy had been saying, all those promises of them getting out of this free if they just gave up their crew, it was all things he’d heard his own crew promise people  _ they’d _ been interrogating.

 

Matt knew exactly how this would go. If they'd keep their mouths shut, they'd be killed for their disobedience. If they talked, giving up some scrap of information that these fucks deemed useful enough, they'd be killed because they were no longer needed. Of course, there was always the third option where they talked and were actually released, only to be followed until they'd accidentally led them right to the crew, putting everybody they loved in danger. Matt may have enjoyed his life thus far, but he sure as fuck knew which option he would go for.

 

Just the thought of betraying The Fakes like that made him feel sick to his stomach. He’d take his own death a thousand times over before he’d let the same fate befall his crew --  _ his family.  _

 

His eyes briefly flitted over to where Gavin had been tied to his own chair. He was slumped over, looking worse for wear, and Matt’s eyes traced over every bruise and every cut that was visible. The sight sent a shudder down his spine, and he looked away.

 

Though they were both there in the room, the men had mostly been focusing on Gavin. He was the Golden Boy, one of the most notorious and easily recognizable  faces in the Fake AH Crew. He was a big grab, and their best bargaining chip. These guys obviously knew the Fakes would want him back the most.

 

Matt wasn’t even bothered by this. He’d want Gavin back, too. That was the only hesitation he had here. His actions wouldn’t just be affecting him. They’d affect  _ Gavin,  _ too.

 

But, he didn’t have to ask what Gavin would choose. Their lives, or their crew? They both knew how deep their loyalty ran.

 

So, Matt looked  right into the man’s eyes, reared his head back, and spit in his face.

 

The man’s grin was quickly replaced with a scowl. He raised his fist, and Matt didn’t even flinch, just accepted the strike. The side of his face bloomed in pain, and he could taste the salty copper flavor of blood pooling in his mouth.

 

“I think you have your answer.” Matt told him. He smiled up at the man, feeling some saliva dribble out of his mouth. He didn’t have to look down to know it was pink.

 

Before he had a chance to hit Matt again, the door was opened by another man, one they hadn’t encountered before. He didn’t say a word, but the man that had been interrogating them seemed to understand, glaring one last time at the pair before following this new man out of the room.

 

That left the boys alone in the room, extremely battered, but  _ alive.  _

 

There was a moment of silence between them, save for Gavin’s ragged breathing. It hurt Matt to hear, but he reminded himself, ragged or not, breathing was  _ good.  _ Breathing meant that he  _ could _ breathe. And, considering how Matt expected this whole situation to end, especially after that little stunt he had just pulled, this was as good as he could have hoped for.

 

Matt turned his body as far as he could to face Gavin, only to find Gavin doing the same.

 

“Gavvy?” Matt asked in a hushed tone. “How ya holdin’ up, man?”

 

“Top.” Gavin replied, voice cracking. He tried to give a cheeky grin at Matt, but his face was far too swollen for it to look anything more than a grimace. He cleared his throat, and Matt could see his demeanor change, that joking reassurance changing to a darker, more serious look clouding his face. “Matthew,” he murmured, just barely loud enough to be heard. 

 

“Y-yeah, Gav?”

 

“You remember,” Gavin started, his voice quiet but strained. He swallowed harshly and continued. “When we were talkin’ about if something ever happened, how we made that plan?”

 

Matt saw the urgency in the taut line of his shoulders, the downturned curve of his frown, begging for Matt to remember a conversation they had had, what, two years ago?

 

The memories were a bit fuzzy, but Matt thought he could make them out. 

 

They’d been lying in one of the beds in the medic bay, huddled up under the blankets, not wanting to let go of each other after the night that they’d just had. It was the first large heist that had gone wrong since Matt had joined the crew, and one of the first times he’d been in the field with them, as opposed to the safety of his position behind his computer. Everything that could have went wrong decided to do just that, and somehow -- and Matt still blames himself despite the rest of the crew’s reassurances that it wasn’t his fault, it  _ was _ , he  _ knows _ it was -- an alarm went off without Matt realizing, alerting the LSPD a solid ten minutes before Matt had promised that they’d be an issue. 

 

At some point, the crew had been split up amidst the gunfire, and Matt had ended up alone and completely unprepared. He was the least experienced of the bunch, and had no idea where to go to get away. 

 

He was almost killed that night, his chest still had the scar from the bullet that got him, but thankfully his crew managed to swoop in and save his ass in time. 

 

_ (Sometimes, he’d wake up from a nightmare, drenched in sweat and shaking, memories of bleeding out on the bank floor surrounded by police officers and scared civilians setting him into a panic attack. Gavin would hold him closer those nights, rambling softly in his ear until he'd calm down, refusing to let go even then.) _

 

Gavin had been so protective afterwards, making Matt learn all he could that would help, whether it be gun safety or self defense, to memorizing the numbers of each of their burner phones, as well as any allies’ that they could trust. He'd promised Matt would be safe, that they'd never be separated again.

 

Matt  _ does  _ remember that night, the tears and the kisses, the vows and the planning.

 

The  _ plan. _

 

“You mean,” Matt said tentatively, afraid he'd gotten it wrong. “Codename: breakfast?”

 

The relief that'd spread across Gavin's face was palpable. His shoulders slumped as he let go of the breath he'd been holding.

 

“Yeah, Matt.” Gavin smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. “Codename: breakfast.”

 

“Gavin,” Matt stared at him, his brows furrowed. His own frown deepened, and he struggled not to hiss in pain as his tender cheek was agitated. “I don't wanna leave you.”

 

“ _ Please, Matthew.”  _ Gavin pleaded, the desperation in his eyes making Matt's heart clench painfully in his chest.

 

Matt sighed, and although every part of his being was screaming at him, he nodded weakly.

 

“How, though?” He asked Gavin, looking around the room. He struggled against the binding. “We're both stuck here.”

 

Gavin didn't say anything, just smiled again, and gave Matt a thumbs up.

 

_ Wait… _

 

“Oh.” Matt watched Gavin work the rest of himself free of the ropes. He quickly began working on Matt's, untying the knots as fast as he could manage. He rubbed gently at the marks on Matt’s skin, and Matt looked up at him in awe. “ _ How?” _

 

“Gotta have _ some  _ mysteries left, love.” He told him, and God, Matt was so in love. Even in a situation like this, Gavin still made Matt feel at least that little bit better, like things weren’t as hopeless as they seemed.

 

Matt went to respond, but froze when he heard voices nearing. 

 

Gavin raised his finger to his lips, eyes shifting to the door. He made a motion like he was tying a knot in the air before rushing back to his own chair. They both wrapped the ropes back around themselves enough to make it look like nothing had happened, and willed that their captors were  unobservant.

 

Matt’s heart was pounding away loudly in his ribcage. He almost couldn’t hear the door opening over the blood rushing in his ears, making his head swim.

 

This was a bad idea.  _ Fuck,  _ this was a  _ bad  _ idea.

 

He glanced at Gavin -- stupid, protective,  _ wonderful  _ Gavin -- and swallowed back his worries. This  _ had  _ to work. It was their only option.

 

Gavin caught his eye and the corner of his mouth raised just barely.

 

Matt steeled himself, determination coursing through his system like fire. He’d do this.  _ For Gavin.  _

 

The man walked in and looked back and forth between the two, vicious grin widening as he caught sight of the damage he and his guys had already inflicted. When his gaze landed on Matt, his eyes narrowed. Matt could only imagine what he was thinking, but he’d be willing to bet it involved a slow and painful death for him. The feeling was very much mutual.

 

Matt took a deep breath, glaring at the man walking toward him.

 

“Ready to talk yet?” The man asked, crowding in on Matt. His breath smelled like cigarettes and cheap liquor. It burned in Matt’s nose.

 

Matt nodded his head slowly, staring up with wide eyes.

 

The man looked briefly taken aback, clearly not expecting either of them to break so easily, but he composed himself quickly, smug look plastered on his face.

 

“I’m all ears.” The confidence just  _ poured  _ from the man, obviously assuming that his fucking torture was all it took to make them turn their back on their crew.

 

Fucking dumbass.

 

Matt leaned forward so his mouth was closer to the man’s ear. He licked his lips.

 

_ “Suck my dick.” _

 

He thrust his head forward,  his forehead knocking against the man’s with a loud thud. He pulled his arms up, his ropes falling away from his body as he stood, and tackled the man to the ground, the man's skull slamming against the concrete with a sickening crack. 

 

“Matt!” Gavin gasped behind him.

 

The impact knocked the breath from Matt’s body, and he rolled onto his side, panting heavily. He saw Gavin take the rope between his hands, pulling it tight, and reach down for the man. 

 

Matt’s head was swimming. Everything felt distant, like he was watching it happen through a thick fog. He closed his eyes.

 

He heard the man let out a heaving breath, and then nothing. Gavin dropped his lifeless body back to the ground. 

 

“ _ Don’t you die on me yet, Matthew _ .” Gavin demanded angrily. He could feel arms lifting him up, and Matt opened his eyes again, looking up at his boyfriend’s face.

 

“Y’think ya can get ridda me tha’ easily?” Matt slurred, struggling to get to his feet. He thought he heard Gavin sigh, but he ignored it, focusing on not falling. The room was spinning, and if he had to guess, he’d say he was almost certainly concussed, which only made Matt hate the man that was lying dead at his feet  _ more _ .

 

He steadied himself with Gavin’s help, and when Matt was sure he wouldn’t slip back on his ass, he kicked his leg forward as hard as he could into the man’s body. There was something satisfying in the act, the way the corpse just flopped over like a heavy ragdoll. So, Matt did it again. And, again, panting from the effort it took.

 

Gavin pulled him back, stopping him from kicking the body anymore before he could hurt himself further. 

 

“Normally, I’d take the time to appreciate how hot you look when you’re angry,” He murmured into Matt’s ear. “But, we’ve got to go.  _ Now _ .”

 

Matt nodded quickly, swallowing back his rage. He took a shaky breath.

 

“Alright, yeah.” Of their own accord, his eyes darted back to the body. The unnatural way it was slumped over, what  _ he'd  _ done to it in a moment of weakness,  left him uneasy. Matt looked back at Gavin. “What now?”

 

“Now,” Gavin said, helping Matt to the door. “We have to try to make it out unnoticed.”

 

With a quick scan outside, the pair ducked out of the room, and made their way down the hallway as silently as they could manage. They were both limping a fair amount, and he couldn’t speak for Gavin, but Matt was still fighting down the nausea from his concussion. 

 

They’d been blindfolded and more or less unconscious when they’d been dragged into the interrogation room, so they struggled to find the exit without knowing how the place was mapped out. There was a lot of guessing, sure, but Matt had studied buildings just like this for a hit. They tended to be laid out the same way, and that worked to their advantage here.

 

Matt was genuinely impressed by the efficiency they’d been moving with, gliding down the corridors and sneaking past closed doors with minimal issue.

 

He was also wary. The fact that they hadn’t been spotted yet, despite making their way across the entire building as beat up as they were, was extremely unusual and  _ very _ worrying. There was no way that they were that lucky. It just didn’t work like that.

 

So, when they came face to face with another of the guys, Matt was unsurprised to find their luck had run out in a major way. 

 

The sound of a gun cocking sent a wave of ice through his body.

 

_ So, this is what it was like to look your own death in the face. _

 

It was becoming a startlingly familiar sight in his life.

 

A few years back, Matt would have figured his death would be less dramatic. A heart attack caused from never touching a vegetable, or maybe his body just giving out after the eighth consecutive day of no sleep. The scar on his chest, just right of where his heart lay, however, remained a glaring reminder that an ordinary death was out of the question for him these days.

 

But, he supposes, if given the choice, dying while trying to save his family, with his boyfriend by his side, seemed as good a way as any.

 

“You fucking pests have been a goddamn  _ nuisance  _ to me and my guys for too long.” 

 

Matt suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Suddenly, this man and his gun seemed significantly less threatening. Though, if Matt had to sit through another supervillain monologue from a criminal who’d seen one too many movies, he'd probably be  _ begging _ for death, so maybe it was more effective than he'd given it credit for.

 

He couldn't be sure, but Matt thought he heard Gavin snort at the ridiculousness of it. And, yeah, they should probably take the situation more seriously, but  _ come on.  _ They were tired, and hurt, and the adrenaline rushing through their bodies only made things seem more sluggish. And, then there was this  _ guy  _ pointing a gun at them, standing there spouting some bullshit Matt was  _ positive  _ he'd read in a shitty comic book once.

 

Matt started laughing, quiet chuckling bubbling up from his chest. 

 

“... _ Matthew?”  _  Gavin mumbled Questioningly, sounding worried.

 

Matt couldn't stop. He knew he should. He knew he needed to be quiet because he was probably attracting all sorts of unwanted attention. But, the peals of laughter kept falling from his lips, turning hysterical as they echoed off the walls surrounding them.

 

The man looked disturbed, unsure of what to do. His face only set Matt off harder. 

 

“I'm sorry,” Matt tried to get out. There were tears in his eyes. “But, do you fucking  _ hear this guy?”  _

 

That seemed to break the man from his confusion. He pointed his gun straight at Matt.

 

“ _ Shit.”  _

 

And, suddenly, both Gavin and the man were on the floor, struggling over the weapon. Gavin managed to kick the gun away from him, sending it sliding into the wall by Matt.

 

Fortunately, in a brief moment of lucidity, Matt was able to calm down enough and pick up the gun. He directed it at the man.

 

The two stopped wrestling on the floor, staring up at Matt.

 

Gavin tried to roll away, but the man was quicker, pulling him back like a human shield. 

 

“Try it.” The man taunted, holding Gavin close. “You'll shoot your little friend here, too.”

 

His palms were sweaty, and his grip on the gun was tenuous at best.  Matt locked eyes with Gavin, and Gavin nodded.

 

Matt took a deep breath, prayed to whatever deity may be listening, and pulled the trigger.

 

To be perfectly honest, Matt's not sure he could explain anything that happened after the shot.

 

When the bullet left the barrel, the gun slipped from his hands, clattering against the floor.

 

All Matt remembers is the way the bullet tore through the air, and then the  _ blood, oh god the blood. _

 

The man’s body fell back, and Matt didn’t get the chance to appreciate his own aim before Gavin slumped forward.

 

Matt’s stomach lurched, and he rushed forward, kneeling by Gavin.

 

“ _ No. Nononono no.”  _ He fucked up. Gavin trusted him, and he  _ fucked up. _

 

He pressed his hands against Gavin’s shoulder, his fingers coming back stained with red. Gavin groaned, and Matt had never been more relieved to hear that sound in his life.

 

“ _ Matt..”  _ Gavin hissed. “ _ We’ve got to go.” _

 

Matt’s eyes widened, and he glanced down at the bloodied mess under his hands.

 

“ _ But-” _

 

_ “Now, Matthew!”  _

 

His eyes darted over Matt’s shoulder, and he struggled to get to his feet. Matt helped him up, letting Gavin lean into his side. Matt tried to keep pressure on the wound, but the positions they were in made that all but impossible.

 

“The gun!” Gavin said, and, God, Matt knew he was right, but he didn't even want to look at the thing, not when there was still red dripping onto Gavin’s clothes at an alarming rate.

 

But, he grabbed it, his handy shakier than they had been before. The gun slid against the blood on his hand and he almost dropped it.

 

Everything after that was a blur for Matt. His mind had shut down and his body shifted to autopilot as they limped toward the exit, his only focus being to keep Gavin safe.

 

He’s not sure when they made it out, or even  _ how  _  they made it out, but that didn’t matter. 

 

He does remember making Gavin stop long enough for him to wrap a strip of shirt around his shoulder tightly, and he remembers Gavin complaining that he didn't want to ruin the piece of clothing, which was just fucking  _ stupid,  _ and Matt didn't hesitate to let Gavin know.

 

Matt thinks he might have hotwired a car at some point? He’s not sure, just knows that they were in a car that neither of them owned, speeding down the roads.

 

The first thing Matt was really, truly, aware of was when they finally made it to their destination.

 

Even in his state of mind, Matt recognized that it wasn’t safe to head back to the penthouse. The chances that they were being tailed far outweighed the chances that they were safe, and like fuck, after all that they’d just been through, were they going to lead danger to their crew. Fuck that.

So, they drove to a small diner just outside of the city limits that served the absolute best pancakes that Matt had ever had. They’d gone there on their first “date” that neither was sure that the other considered a date until it had ended and, yeah, that goodnight kiss sort of was a big clue. It was one of the happiest memories Matt had.

 

They’d jumped at the chance to rent the apartment just behind it, and they’d been using it as their private place away from the prying eyes of their crew for ages. Gavin had even lovingly named it their secret room, and it was just the two of them there, where they could pretend they were just normal boyfriends living a normal life.

 

Gavin had made Matt promise that if something ever happened, this would be their safe house. They’d hide out in their secret room until they were able to get to the rest of The Fakes.

 

This was their Plan B.

 

Codename: breakfast.

 

(Gavin named it, of course. Wanted it to mean something, be something for just the two of them. It was silly, but it was so  _ Gavin _ that Matt went along with it.)

 

He helped Gavin in, using the back entrance just in case. The neighbors were nice, and probably knew more about who they were than they let on, but Matt didn’t want anybody to alert the cops. 

 

Just walking into the little apartment, looking around and seeing the beat up furniture and the pictures Gavin had insisted they’d hang up, it was such a surreal feeling. Everything that had happened just hours ago felt like another life. 

 

He was so tired. He was tired and he was in pain, and, fuck, they’d almost  _ died _ .  _ Gavin _ had almost died  _ because of Matt. _

 

Matt collapsed on the floor by the loveseat, too exhausted and sick to take another step. He fought his stomach, the bile rising up in his throat.

 

And, Jesus Christ, Matt could see Gavin coming toward him with a pair of glasses that they’d been wise enough to stash away here to replace the broken ones that were hanging off of Matt’s nose, and Matt felt so fucking  _ useless.  _

 

Gavin had been  _ shot. Matt  _ had shot him. And, he still fucking managed to look after Matt. 

 

Matt should be looking after  _ him.  _ It was the least he could do. 

 

He couldn’t bring himself to move, though, staring at Gavin. Stupid, loving, amazing Gavin. 

 

It was too much for Matt. 

 

Everything that had happened to them in the last few days caught up with him, every moment of doubt and every injury, the terror that they wouldn’t see their crew again, that they wouldn’t see  _ each other  _ again. 

 

Matt started crying.

 

“ _ Fuck,”  _ he hiccupped. “You almost died, Gav. You almost died, and it was  _ my fault.”  _

 

“Oh, Matthew.” Gavin got on his knees and cradled Matt, careful of his shoulder. “Matt, baby, none of this was your fault, alright? It was those pricks. But, don’t worry about that, alright. You know once Geoff hears about this, he’ll hunt night and day until all of the bastards are in the ground where they belong.” He rubbed Matt’s back until the sobbing had slowed down. “Hell, forget Geoff, I’m sure Jeremy and Ryan will try to take them down themselves. Jack and Lindsay right behind ‘em.”

 

His soothing was starting to work, the gentle tone and the movement on his skin beginning to calm him down.

 

Matt looked up at Gavin again.

 

“I almost lost you.” he said, voice small.

 

“Nah.” Gavin shook his head. “You didn’t lose me. Think I’d let us get separated? Not on my book.”

 

That startled a laugh out of Matt, and Gavin grinned.

 

“It’s watch, idiot.” Matt corrected him fondly.

 

Gavin shrugged his good shoulder.

 

“Eh, close enough.” He pulled Matt closer. “I’d write a good book, though.”

 

Matt just snorted softly.

 

“I called Geoff’s burner,” Gavin told him a few moments later, after he was sure Matt was done crying. “They’re on their way. Sorry, I had to tell them about our secret room.”

 

Now, it was Matt’s turn to shake his head.

 

“Do you really think I’d care? I’m just glad you’re okay. That  _ we’re  _ okay.” Matt reached up and caressed Gavin’s swollen cheek. He sighed. “I love you.”

 

Gavin leaned his head forward until he was less than an inch away from Matt, his breath ghosting over Matt’s lips.

 

“Funny thing, that.” Gavin told him, smiling. “I was gonna say the same about you.”

 

And, for the first time since they’d been taken, there in Gavin’s arms, kissing him like it would be their last and knowing it  _ wasn’t, it didn't have to be anymore,  _ Matt felt completely safe.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a flash fic  
> "brevity is the soul of wit" never heard of her  
> hmu on my blog where sometimes i cry over these assholes and take on projects that i regret almost immediately  
> [ @jeremwood ](https://jeremwood.tumblr.com)


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